Page 99 of Best In Class
“You should’ve told her the minute you came back…hell, you should’ve told her ten years ago,” she continues. “You don’t get to rebuild something while hiding the wreckage underneath.”
I close my eyes and roll my neck to gather myself. “It felt like a pathetic excuse for being a coward, Stella. It felt like I was passing the blame.”
“Youwerepassing the blame,” Stella snaps. “But that doesn’t mean she didn’t deserve the truth.”
“I know.”
She shakes her head, more disappointed than angry—and somehow that’s worse. “Don’t come crying to me when she doesn’t let you back in.”
I don’t say anything. There isn’t much to say, because I’m already crying, even if she can’t see it, even if I’m not showing it.
I step outside, each footfall heavier than the last.
I find Luna in the gazebo. Her knees drawn up, her face half-hidden by a curtain of hair, a glass dangling loosely from her hand.
My heart twists.
“Luna,” I say softly, careful not to startle her.
She doesn’t look at me. Doesn’t say anything.
I step closer. “I’m sorry.”
Still nothing.
So I keep going, until I’m standing at the edge of the gazebo, the wooden steps between us like a moat.
“I should’ve told you the moment I came back.” I let out a long exhale. “Hell, I should’ve told youthenand never left. But I was scared and ashamed and young and stupid.”
She finally lifts her head to look at me. Her eyes are glassy, rimmed red, her mouth a tight, brittle line. “You hurt me. You lethimhurt me.”
Her voice is cracked, raw.
Of all the accusations, this is the one that I feared the most.
“Yes.” The word is a sob. But, hell, she’s already crying, I can’t start bawling, too. One of us deserves to break down, and that’s her.
“You let me believe you didn’t love me.” She laughs, but it’s a sharp, humorless sound.
“I’ve always loved you. I still love you. I will always love you.”
She sniffles. “This is your definition of love? Lying to me?”
“I was a coward.”
“Still are,” she flings at me.
She drains her glass and sets it next to a pitcher that is half fucking empty.
What the fuck was Stella thinking making her a Long Island Iced Tea?
“So…who was the girl?”
I walk up the steps of the gazebo, and sit on the samebench as her, but at the edge of it. I want to be close but far enough so she doesn’t get spooked.
“A classmate. I told her…I told her you were being clingy, and she said she’d help out.”
“Wow! The web you wove.”
